As Days Fade, and Nights Grow
by three tears for sweet revenge
Summary: My Chemical Romance's tour bus crashes in a desolate area in Canada, and Gerard, Mikey, Frank, Ray and Bob must find a way to survive, while having no knowledge of the subject of survival in the wilderness. Frank's old crush on Gerard immediately surfaces, but the latter searches desperately for his love for Frank, but finds it may not be as strong as before. Yes, it's a Frerard.
1. Chapter 1

Gerard was roused by the sound of a nearby fire crackling, threatening to consume his helpless self as a crushing weight pressed down on his entire body. Pain surged through his head at almost an unbearable rate. His vision, blackened and distorted, offered no aid in his struggles to figure out what the hell just actually happened, but the scent of smoke and blood on his tongue allowed him to reason that he was definitely screwed if he didn't get out of there, wherever 'there' may be. He attempted movement, but lacked the energy and tolerance of pain it brought him.

"Gerard? Are you okay?" As the vaguely familiar voice spoke, something gripped his forearms and forced his almost lifeless body from the wreckage. He was dragged across shards of shattered glass that only added to the excessive amount of lacerations he had. He winced in pain as this happened, and the same voice of the silhouette kneeling over him spoke once again. "Hey! Wake up! Say something!" It commanded. He responding by murmuring something inaudible to both him and his rescuer.

A second voice called out to the first. "Is he alright?"

"I think so," replied the first. "I mean... I don't know. He's bleeding pretty badly everywhere. It looks like he might have a concussion. He's also just mumbling random shit I can't really hear."

Gerard groaned and slowly moved an unsteady hand to his head and applied pressure as if to fight off the migraine forming in his skull. He was lying horizontally in the grass, and wasn't sure it this escalated the effects of the pain or diluted them. Then, slowly like molasses, the memories oozed back into his mind accompanied by visions that he wish didn't follow. The band, the tour, Canada, the collision, the pain, and above all... His brother.

"Mikey..." Was all he could choke out at first. The man kneeling beside him didn't respond, and Gerard would have felt more satisfaction with this response if he had been able to read his facial expression, but the sun made sure this didn't happen. His vision and thoughts then cleared when he took a moment to collect himself. "Where is he?" A gloved hand took the back of his neck and helped him sit up. Gerard glance for the first time up at the young man who had just saved him for the first time, taking him a moment to recognize the face. "Frank, where the hell is Mikey?" He felt guilt prick him in the heart as he spoke with a bitter tone, and not thanking Frank for saving him.

"I don't... know." Frank tucked the left side of his bottom lip under the top row of flawless white teeth.

"What do you mean you don't-" But the pain coursing through his skull forced him to break his sentence and press two hands to either side of his head. He continued when the pain was diminished by the pressure. "-fucking know?"

"Gerard, I was going... I-"

"Is he still in the bus?" No response. Gerard shook away the hand on his neck and crawled to the wreckage a few feet away. Frank seized his leg as he entered the bus for a second time.

"Wait!" Frank pleaded. "You can't go back in there!"

"Oh, so I'm just going to let my own brother burn alive?" Frank lost his gripped as Gerard kicked, and he clawed through shattered glass and other unrecognizable objects that had been consumed by flames on hands and knees. His sliced palms bled while the growing fires seared his skin, but he would bear through any sort of pain to ensure his brother's safety. Gerard spotted Mikey's body and called out to him, afraid he might to crying out to a corpse. He reached him within seconds. Mikey was unconscious with a rivulet of blood trickling down his temple. Gerard checked for a pulse, then a breath, finding both, then cradled his brother's head in his arms for a moment. "Don't die on me now, okay? I'm gonna get you outta here," He promised. He then wrapped both arms around Mikey's body and pulled him from the wreckage with all the strength he had left.

"That thing is gonna blow any minute now. Maybe someone should go in there and see if they're alright. I vote Bob goes."

"Wait a fuckin' second..." Bob protested.

"C'mon Frank, now's not the time. Oh God, I hope they're alright," Ray added.

"Wait! Look!" Frank gestured to the remains of the tour bus as he spoke, but it wasn't like it was necessary, because the sight was hard to miss at the moment. Gerard appeared with Mikey. Blood from multitudes of lacerations smeared over parts of his face and his skin was blackened in the sections where the flames had licked. An open wound from his head spilled crimson into his platinum blonde hair. Mikey didn't look any better, but what mattered most was that the two had successfully evaded the wreck, and the younger of the two brothers wasn't dead yet. Bob, Ray and Frank assisted in carrying the body out of the ditch and away from the tour bus that could potentially explode and kill them all at any moment. They placed him on the pavement and kneeled in unison, encompassing Mikey. Gerard once again took his head and brushed strands of blood-soaked black hair from his eyes.

"What should we do?" Asked Bob.

"I don't know... wait to see if he wakes up? I'm not a doctor." Gerard replied sarcastically.

"Is he alive?"

"Yeah, I checked for a pulse."

They waited, watching Mikey's chest slowly rise and fall.

"Frankie?"

"Yeah, Gerard?"

"Do you think... you think he'll be alright?"

Frank rested an arm on Gerard's back. "I hope so." There were a few agonizing moments of bitter silence as the four waited to see what would happen next.

"What if he-" Ray asked, but before the last words crossed his lips, Mikey's eyes fluttered open. They darted around frantically, as he was shaken and perplexed. He coughed once, and a drop of diluted blood seeped from his mouth. The four simultaneously released a serene sigh that had so desperately wanted to escape them. An array of panic was suddenly cast over Mikey. He sucked in shaking breaths, becoming tense and rigid while attempting to choke out words.

"What the hell? Where am...? What just...?"

Gerard cut him off though, still cradling his head. "Shh... It's okay now. You're safe. Everything's gonna be alright."

"What just happened? Did we all just...?"

"Yeah," replied Gerard, reading his mind, though the ending of the question was quite obvious, "we all got into a wreck and from the looks of it..." He paused and downcast his eyes in remorse. "We're the only five that survived. Are you okay? Think you can walk?"

"I don't know... I feel-"

"Oh shit!" Bob cried out. "Look at his ankle! Fuckin' look at it!"

"What? What's wrong with my..." Mikey propped himself up with his elbows. "Aw shit..."

"Dude, it looks like it's fuckin' broken."

"Yeah, no kidding," Frank sarcastically added. The others continued to be fascinated by the apalling sight of Mikey's ankle, contributing other comments until Frank continued again. "This is great. This is just great." He retorted. "Here we are, in the middle of fuckin' Canada, it's like forty degrees out, our tour bus just crashed and killed everyone in it but us, Mikey's got a broken ankle and we're all gonna fuckin' die!"

"Yeah, and we got a show tomorrow too!"

Frank shot Gerard a bewildered glare. "Seriously? Look at the condition we're in, Gerard! We could be dead in three days and all your tiny mind can wrap around is the fact that we're gonna miss our performance?"

"Hey! I'll have you know that my mind is _not_ tiny! And excuse me if I'm thinking about my fuckin' career!"

"Well without us, there wouldn't even _be_ a show!"

"I'm just trying to be a bit more positive than you!"

"Both of you _shut up_!" Bob cut in, but he wasn't needed as much, for the explosion of the tour bus silenced the conflict immediately. The band's attention was redirected towards the flames engulfing the entire automobile. No one dared to comment, especially after the abrupt outburst. He waited, and when the flames were no longer a distraction, he continued, vexation still darkening his face. "No one's gonna get outta here alive if we all keep bitchin' about it. Gerard, Frank?" He faced them both with a menacing stare that meant business, "Not another word from you or I swear to God I'll kill you both. Now, does anyone have a cell phone on 'em?"

"Yeah, I do. Hold on a second," said Mikey's raspy and weakened voice.

Bob, who had been towering over the other four because he felt he had need to stand when taking authority, waited patiently as the injured young man's shaking hand retrieved the device from his pocket and handed it to Bob. He accepted and examined it, his massive hands working the tiny keys. "Dammit. No signal."

"Yep, we're fucked." Frank exclaimed, tossing his hands into to the air to express his frustration.

"What about you, Ray? What do you think?" Asked Gerard, ignoring Frank's remark.

"I think we still have a chance," replied Ray. "All we have to do is wait here for another vehicle to pass, and when they see a tour bus up in flames in a ditch on the side of the road and five guys covered in blood and half-burned-alive they might think something's wrong."

The others shrugged in agreement at the suggestion.

"Then we wait," came the confirmation from Gerard, "but while that happens, we should do something about our wounds. I say Mikey's ankle is the top priority here." Frank moved in to examine the injury, placing a hand over it as he did so.

"Seriously? Dude don't touch it!" Mikey snapped.

"Relax," Frank said, "I'm not even applying pressure."

"Well how 'bout you go break your ankle and then let me touch and see how that feels!"

Frank, ignoring the comment continued his observations of the wound, then proposed his idea. "It looks dislocated. I think we should try to snap it back in place."

"Since when did you know any of this shit?"

"Oh, I have no clue. I'm just guessing. Now, Gerard you hold him down."

"Wait, I do not consent!"

"Frank! No!" scolded Gerard, "I say we just leave it how it is. Something tells me you're only gonna make this worse" Mikey was sure to defend himself with kicks from his uninjured leg to be sure and Frank retreated in defeat. Gerard directed his attention to his brother and spoke with a gentle tone. "You okay? Can you sit up?"

Mikey attempted this, succeeding only after a lengthy struggle. "Yeah, but I think I broke a rib also... hurts to breathe." He glanced up and eyed the red liquid staining Gerard's white hair with concern. "What about you? That wound looks bad."

"I'll be alright. Just a little light-headed but I can manage for a while." He pressed two fingers to the left side of his head, and they returned coated in a dark, menacing cerise, but ignored this. "So now what?"

"Now," said Bob, "we wait."

And they did, for an entire hour and until the sun balanced over the black horizon, on the verge of vanishing entirely. The vast expanse of the Canadian tundra was growing tenebrous, and in their wake, the illuminations from the sunset left a chill in the night air that plagued any exposed skin with a gnawing icy sensation. Most of the seconds that flitted past were those spent in silence, for the quintet lacked the energy or purpose to speak. They solitarily pondered over what death would feel like, how long they could hold on, and even who would go first.

Mikey couldn't bring himself to purposely stray his thoughts from his older brother. In the saturnine quietude of the night, his mind produced vividly animated visions of what his life would be like with Gerard's absence. He imagined the opposite as well, fearing for the other's safety and what sort of pain he would inflict upon himself with Mikey's vacancy. He despised himself for thinking this, and with the self-hatred still fresh in his brain, he firmly situated an arm across his brother's shoulder. The contact fractured Gerard's daydreams. The inky obscurity had eclipsed his face, but the remorse and hopelessness penetrated this shrouding. Mikey found this abnormal for Gerard was usually headstrong and audacious. The older one's expression forced Mikey's heart to cringe. The moon's light reflected shards of emerald-green and unsightly pain hidden within his irises, and Mikey could still see the black eye shadow had not yet faded entirely, only aiding his appearance in dreariness.

Without a single word, Gerard's head fell onto Mikey's shoulder, but the two didn't require verbal communication anyway to comprehend each other's emotions or thoughts. It wasn't necessary when they've known each other for twenty-seven years. He focused his hearing on Gerard's breathing, listening to the soothing jets of air expelled from his lungs, and within minutes Gerard slipped into a shallow slumber.

As he did this, Mikey couldn't help but feel guilty when he thought about how much he actually valued his life. Briefly, he considered those who hadn't survived and cursed at himself for not acknowledging them sooner. How coincidental was it for his four band mates and himself to evade death and no one else? And to think, if one factor had played out differently, one minuscule change, he could be nothing more than a corpse. When the tour bus had flipped, he could have landed on his head wrong, snapping his neck or denting his skull. A sharp object could have effortlessly penetrated a vital organ or a major blood vessel, leaving him to bleed out. And what if there was no escape? He could have been consumed entirely by the flames, skin eroded into black ashes as he screamed with every ounce of strength until the smoke constricted his voice...

...No, Mikey was still alive. Still breathing and still living, as well as his older brother and his friends, and as vain as it sounded, it was all that he cared about now. The fact fell nothing short of true, even though conceited was the last word one would think of when describing Mikey Way.

Sleep finally did come to him, though he wasn't sure when, but then again there was no way to tell the time without a watch. There was of course the stars, but he was no astronomer. The unconsciousness arrived to him almost hesitantly and it was a weak, uncomfortable rest, but it was there and he most certainly wasn't ungrateful for it.


	2. Chapter 2

By morning, Frank was the first to rise from the bed of grass, now laden with tiny ice crystals. He cast his eyes over his surroundings, examining them. No one else has roused, but he watched with curiosity as Gerard and Mikey slept, constricted in each other's arm to keep themselves warm. At first he found it rather creepy, then sweet. After all, they were brothers, and the closest of all at that. Not to mention at the risk of death. The other two were curled into separate bundles in an attempt to preserve any remaining body heat.

Frank released an exasperated sigh for no actual reason. Perhaps it was the boredom, or the permanent thought embroidered in his brain that he could be dead in three days, but he didn't plan to overreact about this thought. Then he emanated a breath of hot air over his fingers, but only the tips because he had severed the end of the red and black gloves sheathing his hands. For a second, he despised them, then immediately remembered how sexy finger gloves were.

Another sigh involuntarily escaped him as he rummaged through the pockets of his black hoodie in search of a lighter and a pack of American Spirits. This actually was a struggle, considering the fact that the cold had numbed every last nerve in his fingers. The tip of the lighter flickered to life as the tongue of a hopeful little flame licked the bitter air. The flame's reflection danced in the deepest crevices of Frank's dark hazel eyes as he held it up inches from his face, watching it shudder and flinch with the faintest of breezes. His concentration was shattered when a sudden gust of wind murdered the fire. Frank, not undetermined by this, resurrected the flamed with a quick application of pressure from his right thumb. He thought long and hard about the lighter, and wasn't actually sure why at first until he began to envision what it would be like if life actually functioned like this. We are the flame. The wind is hatred, depression, insults, drugs, alcoholism, enemies and when we are extinguished by these factors, we simply apply pressure and spark again into a new fire. Frank snapped from his daze and let the flame envelope the tip of the cigarette.

"Frank, what the hell are you doing?" Came a voice from his left still heavy and dripping with the effects of exhaustions.

He turned to Ray, who had spoken, and answered plainly. "Smoking." Light grey, poisonous tendrils curled from his mouth and nostrils as he spoke and he held up the cigarette to emphasize his answer.

"Seriously? At a time like this?"

"Why not? We're all gonna die anyway. If figured if there's one thing I wanna do before I die, it's having a cigarette. Well, that and making out with Gerard."

"What?"

"What? I didn't- I mean... Cigarette?" He thrusted the pack and the lighter toward Ray, who accepted it hesitantly after debating whether to take one or not.

"Hell, Frank, these cigarettes are gonna kill you before nature does." Ray said with a grin while lighting his own.

"Relax, Ray. Smoking isn't that bad for you anyway."

The other man raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Frank shook his head as if to ignore the look he'd just received. He didn't care. He'd quit smoking. Someday.

"So... You and Gerard then?"

"Drop it, Ray."

There was movement from their right, and they both turned to look. Gerard had awoken now, and was sitting upright, yawning and stretching. He was rubbing his eyes as he spoke. "You guys, I had the weirdest dream last night. So, we were all on the tour bus, and then it crashed. Weird right? I know, but it happened, and then I don't remember what was next but Frank or someone pulled me from the wreck and then Mikey had a broken foot... or was it ankle? Does anyone know why it's so cold out? Then Frank tried to fix Mikey's foot or ankle or whatever, but Mikey wouldn't let him and Bob got all pissed off because Frank and I wouldn't stop arguing... Or did Bob get pissed off first? I don't know... But-" He opened his eyes and soaked in his surroundings, both shocked and disappointed. "Fuck. That wasn't a dream was it?"

"Nope," Ray confirmed.

"Oh, by the way, Frank, what was that about wanting to make out with me?"

"Uh... nothing. Ray said that." Frank blurted out.

Gerard glanced to Ray, who was too shocked to decline Frank's statement. Gerard wasn't actually sure what to believe, though Ray probably didn't want to kiss him as much as Frank, but he shrugged and let it go. "We should probably wake them up," He said, gesturing to the other two bodies. Gerard turned to Mikey, leaving Ray and Frank to try to wake Bob up, which was going to be a struggle. He leaned closer to him and watched with a vigilant gaze for a moment, smiling softly as he ignored Bob jamming his foot into Frank's side and Ray persuading him to stop. He gently placed a hand on the side of his face, feeling and treasuring the heat expelled. He promised again, as he had countless times before, to protect his brother. "MIKEY WAKE THE FUCK UP!"

"Huh? Wha-?" I- I'm up!" Mikey bolted up so quickly, Gerard was surprised he didn't snap his spine in half or something, though the abrupt movement did cause pain to surge through his ribs. He hugged himself tightly. "Ow... shouldn't have done that."

"How's your foot?"

"Ugh... I don't know... Okay?"

"Well I guess we should- Bob!? What the fuck are you doing to Frank? Stop that!"

"Fine," said Bob.

"Well," began Ray, "it seems as if no one has passed us yet."

"Really, Ray? Wow, thanks! I couldn't not tell that myself!" Snapped Frank sarcastically.

Gerard sighed and shook his head in exasperation at Frank's comment. Frank had a bad habit of throwing in sarcastic remarks at inappropriate times, and as comically droll as they may be, were a bit excessive. "Shut up, Frank." He smiled and addressed Ray. "Please continue." As Ray spoke, Gerard couldn't ignore the look of pure hatred and annoyance he received from Frank, even though ignoring seemed to be one of his talents.

"As I was saying, no has passed up yet." He paused briefly and shot Frank a glare of attentiveness, as if to catch any sarcastic statements that he could see balanced on his lips. Instead, he returned a black, stupid stare, turning Ray's mouth in in a faint flicker of a smile. "And I don't think anyone will. This road is so desolate. I say the only way to survive is to keep moving." He thrusted a finger in the direction they had been heading initially. "That way."

The other four expressed consent with subtle nod, but Gerard was the only one to speak up. "Okay... but what about Mikey?"

"He'll have to be carried," offered Ray again.

Without another word, Gerard kneeled next to Mikey, placed an arm under his knees and around his back, then lifted him from the grass. He struggled in protest as the already bounteous pain accumulated in his broken rib was amplified. This was rather disappointing to him, because over the night it seemed like his senses had abandoned their memories of his injuries. There was nothing beyond that quick jostle, and all Mikey could do was fasten his arms around the older one's neck and hold on. Despite how much weight Mikey didn't have, Gerard almost felt his legs give out from underneath him, but he assembled all remaining strength and held him up. The strength he had was soon to run dry. In fact, they were all running low on energy and with that in mind began to estimate how long they would last, which all could reason wasn't much longer. With their pace so slow, they knew the distance they were covering wasn't going to make a difference, and the icy Canadian tundra was to serve as their tomb, though it was worth the effort. They began to scoop up handfuls of the light snow that had begun to fall in an effort to quench their thirsts. It didn't seem to work very well.

After an hour, Frank collapsed, weakened from fatigue and the weather. His gloves soaked up the melted snow as they came in contact with the dirt and he gasped for air, which only stung his lungs.

Ray was the first at his side. "Are you alright?" Frank wanted so desperately to snap back with his bitter sarcasm. Of course he wasn't alright! He was dying! They all were! But with the lack of energy to even do that simple task, settled with a meek nod. He also knew Gerard would bitch about it, too. Ray seized Frank's arm and wrapped it around his shoulder to support him. As he stood, taking Frank with him he asked, "Can you stand?" Frank planned to reply with something along the lines of, "Well, I don"t have much of a choice now, do I, Ray?" But decided against it and nodded.

"We have to take a break," pleaded Gerard to the others, also worn from exhaustion. "I can't go anymore." He looked to Bob in desperation after not receiving a response. "You agree, right?" Bob only shrugged. It seemed he was taking the place as the dominant one of the group. He, also the most mature, was able to remain the calmest out of the five. It was as if no suggestion was carried out with Bob's consent. Gerard took the response as an agreement and kneeled in the snow, dampening the entire from of his calves. He didn't set Mikey down either. He was asleep anyway.

The other three mimicked Gerard, not caring either about the snow, but Bob spoke first. "We need a plan," he stated blatantly.

"What kind of plan?" inquired Frank.

"A plan to keep up alive, dipshit."

Frank shot him a scowl of pure hatred, despite all the rude remarks he himself had made. But he kept his temper under control and continued again, this time as if speaking to a child. "Okay, Bob, but what do you suppose we do?"

Bob ignored his mocking tone. "If we don't find food, we're all gonna die," he said, anticipating sarcasm, but before Frank could open his mouth, Gerard joined the conversation.

"Care to elaborate on that?"

Bob gestured to their surroundings. In the hours they had been traveling, the road had lead them into what had appeared to be a boreal forest. Massive spruces ascended on either side of the road, which now resembled more of a worn path, just an imprint in the thick rows of foliage. They extended hundreds of feet of their heads, filtering the white northern sun's rays through translucent leaves. Pure snow had blanketed the majority of the forest, glinting in the corners of their eyes. The sight would have been relaxing if it weren't for the fact that they all might die here. "Look around," Bob ordered. "It's not that hard, Gerard."

"Ha, that rhymed. Hard... Gerard..." Came an unnecessary comment from Frank.

"Shut up."

Gerard's face lit up, as if discovering something significant. He thrusted a single hand in the right pocket of his black skinny jeans, revealing a second later the body of a Scheffeild pocket knife. With a skilled flick of his thumb, the silver blade uncurled from the sheathe and gleamed in th sunlight. "This should be utile. Anyone know anything about hunting?" After a moment if silence in which no one moved, both Bob and Ray lifted a hand shoulder height. "Good," said Gerard, offering the two the blade. "Take this and go... kill something with it."

Ray hesitantly accepted it, as if the plastic would burn the skin from his bones on contact. Frank was the one to speak. "Wait!" he cried out, only explaining himself after getting a few questioning glares. "We should all stick together. It's safer."

"Reasonable..."

"Then let's get movbefore we all die," urged Bob.


	3. Chapter 3

The four set out once again, this time with more determination pulsing through their veins, and Frank carrying Mikey. Bob had claimed the knife from Ray and was now leading the group through the forest. Within ten minutes, he had strayed them far from their original course, the dirt road that was vital to their survival. The five were too far into their concentration of scavenging for food that the thought, as important as it was, never occurred to them. After an hour and a half, they had covered roughly five miles, stealthily lurking through dense foliage with a hope they might stumble across something edible or of use to them. Truthfully, they weren't having much luck, and neither Bob nor Ray had any knowledge concerning the topic of hunting and didn't want to be the first to admit it either. Bob only took charge because Bob always takes charge, and Ray because he found a seemingly good opportunity to do so, figuring that it couldn't be a challenge. Well it was.

It was also Gerard who first realized they had traipsed so far from that desolate dirt road. He then slowed, lingering behind the others for a moment, taking in the realization and stopped completely after accepting it.

Frank noticed, and turned to face him, also seeing the look of pure shock, which only added to his curiosity. "What's wrong, Gee?" But perhaps those were the wrong words. He realized it right away. What he had meant to say was something more along the lines of, "What's wrong, Gee, besides the fact that our tour bus crashed, everyone in it died but us five, we don't know where we are, Mikey's foot is broken and I'm really tired of carrying him, we don't have any food because Bob's being a dick and Ray won't shut up, I think I really like you and would probably make out with you given the chance but I don't know if you like me back, our only source of water is dirty snow with animal piss in it and it's cold as fuck?" But there was no need for Gerard understood. He was an understanding guy.

"Does anyone know..." Gerard paused and his voice trailed off, then spun in a slow circle with a puzzled look on his face as if searching for something before continuing. "...How to get back to the road?"

The realization hit the other four, hard, and they all shared the same expression.

"Well fuck." And there were no more words from Frank for the time being as he collapsed to the ground on his knees, taking his older friend with him, but he was not awoken despite the commotion. After a second Frank lay sprawled on the ground as if making a snow angel, drained of both energy and hope, wondering how the hell Mikey could still be asleep and not caring that the melted snow had absorbed into every inch of his backside.

Gerard kneeled next to Frank, placing a hand on his thigh in an effort to comfort him. "Oh come on, Frankie, we can't just give up."

Frank opened his mouth to respond, most likely with a smart-ass response and a hint of sarcasm, but Ray was already at his side, pleading for a response while shaking his shoulders. "Frank!? Frank are you alright? Frank!?" Bob appeared behind him, but with much less urgency.

"Oh yeah, thanks for throwing my brother in a snow bank, asshole." Gerard commented.

Frank dismissed them both with a wave of his hand, and went as far as to shove his crush into the snow so he landed on his ass, because that's just the kind of person Frank is, but smiled as he did so in case Gerard actually thought he was being a dick. Fortunately for him the older man half-grinned to, and Frank read it as a sign that no feelings were hurt. "I'm fine," he assured while sitting up and brushed the snow off his back. Gerard assisted him. "But you guys-" He paused to acquire a much-needed breath of air. "-have to go on without me."

"What?! No! Are you insane? We all have to stick together!" Ray exclaimed.

Bob also commented. "Yeah, what do you want us to do? Leave you here to die? That's stupid."

When nothing followed from the other last one, Ray questioned him. "Right Gerard?"

He didn't respond but instead downcast his eyes, and then sighed, defeated. "He's right you guys. I mean look at him. Look at all of us! There's really no hope for us anymore, so if you'll exuse me, I'm going to lay down right here and just... fucking die. Have fun trying to survive and then find out there's no fucking way."

"Shit, Gerard, now you're sounding like Frank," said Bob with a look of distaste.

"Yeah," Ray agreed. "Besides, Bob and I feel perfectly fine." It may have been a lie, but it was a small one. True, Ray and Bob felt more... alive than the others, but 'perfectly fine' wasn't the appropriate word choice. "You, Frank and Mikey stay here while we continue."

"But-"

"It's okay, we won't go far."

"Seriously Ray, you can't-"

Frank concluded now was the appropriate time to step in, since Ray wasn't the most convincing of all people. "Let them go, Gee." the desperate pleading look in his eyes, like that of a dying animal when the predator prepares to clamp down on it's throat, was more than enough to convince anyone, and had already somewhat done so to Gerard, minus the words. Frank continued despite that. "We're gonna die if they don't."

Gerard hugged his knees to his chest, still having second thoughts. He wasn't exactly pleased with the thought of two of his best friends wandering alone through a strange woodland abound in carnivorous creatures equipped only with a small switchblade.

"Think of Mikey," Frank continued.

Gerard's head snapped up and his gaze fell upon his younger brother's motionless body curled into a tight bundle of black denim, a band t-shirt, and a thin black hoodie, most likely Gerard's clothes. He outstretched his hand, allowing it to rest on Mikey's shoulder. That boy could sleep through anything. With his brother in mind, he nodded, and the other three smiled with satisfaction.

"We won't go far," assured Bob. He began pacing away from them with Ray following, but paused, turned, and glared directly at Gerard and Frank. "And you guys, don't... do anything... okay?"  
Gerard's eyes widened and his face reddened, and with his pale skin he resembled a tomato, but Frank smirked.

"Can't make any promises," the latter replied.  
Bob simply rolled his eyes and continued walking, cueing Ray to do the same, minus the rolling eyes part.

"Good luck," Gerard called after them softly when a few moments of uncomfortable silence passed. Neither responded, too far to hear, but Gerard didn't that Frank talking sexually about themselves and Bob rolling his eyes and ignoring them wasn't the most genuine of partings. He figured it was worth a try, because he couldn't help but feel he may never see them again.

He also found himself thinking about his brother again, relieved that if wasn't the two of them being separated. As ignorant as it may have sounded, all he cared about was the safety of his brother, who was now the only thing keeping him alive. He would have abandoned the last of his hope for survival, had it not been for the chance that Mikey may escape here with his life. After all, Gerard had vowed long ago he would protect his brother with his life, and if that meant staying alive only for Mikey's sake, then so be it. But what if somehow Gerard had failed and, as much as he didn't want to think about it, Mikey were to die? Would he be able to live with himself knowing he had failed to protect and love his brother.

No. Gerard would never stop loving Mikey, whether it be his brother's death or his own. A relationship like that never ends, even if the people do.

A boisterous, dramatic sigh from Frank, one begging for attention, distracted Gerard from his deep thoughts, but still ignored him. Gerard failed miserably when Frank's head rested on the other's shoulder.

At first, Gerard was startled. It wasn't like this simple gesture hadn't been done before, but the two no longer were a couple, meaning actions like that were somewhat alien to him. In recent years, both had been dating other people, but coincidentally had decided to end their relationships before the current tour commenced, leaving them both conviently available, and they both knew it. The question was, were they both willing to risk their friendship for something more intimate? Already, he saw that Frank would without a second thought. He, on the other hand, felt a bit more skeptical, and still valued his current relationship with Frank. He didn't need to see Frank's flawless face to know he was grinning. The subtle movement of the muscles moving against his shoulder told him everything.

"I really miss this," Frank whispered.

"Miss what?" Gerard didn't need to see to know Frank was raising his eyebrows in disbelief No, he couldn't physically feel it, but it was just something Frank would do. "Oh, right." He was talking about them, not being stranded and dying.

When Gerard didn't respond beyond that, Frank grew curious, and if anything worried. "Do you not?"

"Oh, um... I guess." The awkward tension clinging to what could possibly be described as a conversation only increased.

The younger one peeled his head from Gerard's shoulder and glared at his company with a pained look of innocence. "You guess?"

Gerard did nothing more than bite his lip, looking sexy beyond belief as he did so, but because he knew because he had chosen the wrong selection of words.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Frank did not sound at all pissed off, only rejected and again pained.

Gerard reached down to grasp his friend's hand, which had somehow ended up on his knee. The younger man attempted to pull away, but Gerard refused to loosen his grip until he was victorious with his petty battle. "Aw shit Frankie, I didn't mean it like that," defended the man with the head of silver.

"Yeah? Then how did you mean it?"

Gerard shrugged timidly, while Frank continued to give him an expectant glare, eyebrows raised. "Well, I guess... I guess I do miss this. And you." He smiled hopefully, figuring that his not-so-carefully chosen words satisfied Frank.

They only did the opposite.

"There it is again, Gerard! You guess? I just... All I want is an honest answer, even if it's a no. You don't have to lie to me like I'm some fucking child!" Frank's volume had raised significantly, and the abrupt anger scared Gerard. Frank continued again, this time calmer. "Do you or do you not love me?"

"Love?!" Exclaimed Gerard, trying his best to conceal the stupefied tone, and possibly amusement (To think that Frank thought he would skip to something like love in such a short amount of time!) and speak only with softness. "Oh Frankie I don't... I mean I... It's not..." He let the rest of his breath go into the crisp northern air to clear his mind, and watched as the thin smoke-like tendril vanished, then took in another start fresh. "I'm sorry, but it's far too soon for that. We're not really... an item anymore."

"But you did before, right?"

"Love you?"

Frank longed for there to be no question mark at the end of that last phrase. He would have said it back before his heart could pulse once, before a person could blink or a humming bird's wings beat. But sadly, it was a question. It would never be a statement. Not from Gerard's mouth. He replied with a soft, "Yeah," not wanting to soil the moment with his signature sarcasm.

A gentle smile played on Gerard's lips as he took ahold of both sides of Frank's face and turned the head he grasped toward his own. He then pressed his forehead to the other's, not daring to go any further.

Now it was Frank's turn to be in complete shock. He could do nothing more than return a wide-eyed, bemused gaze to Gerard, who smirked at Frank amusing reaction. He hadn't been this close to Gerard in far too long, forgetting how beautiful and green his ex-lover's eyed were, or how pale yet smooth and flawless his skin looked. He had never in his life been more tempted to attack Gerard's face with an open mouth, slide his tongue down that sexy motherfucker's throat, then just throw themselves to the group and just fucking rip his clothes off and...

Gerard's voice cut him off from fantasizing any further. "Of course I did, Frankie. More than anything." He closed his eyes and smiled, traipsing away from reality as if he had forgotten Frank's presence, but his hands snaked around Frank's head and entwined themselves in the coarse black strands.

Yes, Frank swore he would do every one of those things he had imagined.

Gerard continued. "It's just it's really hard to express my feelings at this time. Stressful, really, with all the shit we're going through right now. And I mean it, I really do, when I say that I did before. Maybe that's not what you were looking for now, but Frank that doesn't mean I can't love you in the future. The near future. Understand?"

Frank could do nothing more than nod his head as Gerard began to close the space between their faces, and considering what little area was left, that was nearly impossible. His heart pulsed furiously in his rib cage, threatening to crack every one of them as he anticipated the imminent connection of their lips. Like always, something wasn't right, and his heart didn't want to question what Gerard was about to do to him and instead enjoy it, but his brain did anyway, without permission. It was too aberrant to not be curious about. Gerard had just stated that their was no love between the two, so why they were about to kiss was something he could not comprehend.

At the last moment, Gerard's lips swept to his right, settling on Frank's left cheek. He pulled away after a second, and pulled themselves into a tight hug, with the sides of their faces together.

You bastard, Frank thought, but the love he also felt smothered his vexation and he instead enjoyed the closeness of the two.

Gerard sighed out of relief, able to relax now that all tension had been cleared. He had admitted to loving Frank years ago, which should have been blatant to them both, and to being more than willing to in the future. If that didn't satisfy him enough to shut him up about the subject of love for the time being, or until he could make a sure decision, he wasn't sure what would. After that sigh, neither of them spoke, leaving them in comforting silence with physical contact as their only interaction. Neither dreaded the silence, in spite of how awkward the recent moments had been but just sat there, unmoving, breathing each other in, even if it was a bit foul, shielding the dangers around them.

Frank didn't keep track of the minutes that swept past, afraid that would impair him from truly enjoying the moment, but nor did he care to as long as he was able to hold Gerard this close to himself with the feel of a breath trailing down his neck and fingertips making subtle movements across his back. He could not care less that it was forty degrees or that they were starved, dying and lost, only that He wasn't alone through the experience of being starved, dying and lost. There was, of course, one single question that distracted him, and he had been dying to ask it while receiving and honest answer. He knew, if answered as he suspected, it would scare him, but also knew he needed the answer.

He separated his face from Gerard's and looked him in the eyes. "Gee?" he asked.

"Yeah?" It was relieving to Gerard to hear his nickname, a secure sign that Frank was no longer pissed, who had an odd way with emotions and was hard to decipher.

Frank downcast his eyes, fear easily visible on his face, before locking his gaze with Gerard's again. "You don't think... you don't think we're gonna... well, die are we?

"Oh Frankie..." soothed Gerard, brushing black strands from the face opposite of him.

"Answer me honestly, please. I'm not a child."

Gerard had never considered Frank a child, but hated more than anything to see him frightened or pained, which is why, in spite of the begging, he considered fibbing, only this once because he was no liar. A small lie, undetectable, to convince Frank that everything would be alright, that they were safe. But was it better to lie straight to his friend's face just to protect him? No, honesty was asked, and honesty will be given. "Most likely," He said at last after a moment deep in thought, almost inaudible and sounding vaguely like regret, avoiding eye contact. He was not sure to expect as Frank's reaction, but acceptance was never something that would have come to mind.

Frank nodded timidly then cast his eyes down, waiting another few seconds before speaking again. "Gee?"

"Yes... Love?"

Frank frowned more than he already was when hearing Gerard hesitate on the name 'Love,' but continued once again. "I... I'm scared."

Gerard took a hold of Frank's head and cradled it against his chest with lips and nose pressed to the black strands. He repeated the phrase, "It's okay. Everything's gonna be alright," and variations of it while stroked the head he held against him. He tried not to break down along with his friend, thinking that he was doing well playing the role of the stronger one of the two, until he slipped and whispered, "I'm scared too," knowing that it wasn't a lie. He had never been one to scare easily, but was more frightened now than the time years ago when an insane homeless man threatened him and demanded he stay on his side of the street. He couldn't possibly be strong for Frank, even while trying his best, but decided to pray silently to a god he didn't believe in that Frank hadn't heard, with the chance that someone noticed his pleading.

He was both noticed and ignored.

Frank looked up at him. "You are?"

"No! I mean... yeah. I am." There was no lying to Frank. Not when every fib could be detected and when Gerard was not a liar. "I know it's not want you want me to be. I know you need someone there for you, someone who's not also scared, and I'm sorry but I'm not that person. I don't want to lie to you, not when this could be our last few weeks alive, if the weather doesn't kill us before hunger does. If the snow melts, then our last few days. I wish I could just lie and tell you it will be alright when in truth... in truth it really won't, and I say that- say that I want to lie- to protect you, but I really can't right now. I can't just say we're all going to live. Not when I can't be sure. I'm just as scared as you.

"And Frankie, I wish... I wish I could say I love you, but again I would be lying. And I don't say that to sound like a dick, but when I do say it, it has to be real, not just some three words that I use to make you feel less scared and nothing more. When I say those words, I love you, I want to actually mean it and I know that I don't now, but I want to be able to. And I'm afraid... afraid that I won't be able to. I want more than anything to love you, but... but I... can't now.

"I'm sorry if I die before I can say it. I know it sounds dark but you deserve to hear me say that I love you."

Frank had no words to follow up, feeling foolish not being able to even nod to show he understood or accepted what was said to him after Gerard had spoken from the depths of his heart. He could do nothing more than stare back, unmoving as if he were made of stone.

Gerard was lifeless. Everything about him was his expression was, especially after opening up completely to Frank. From his hollow green eyes to his pale cheeks, or the rough, deteriorated skin on his downturned lips. If any of the two was dependent on the other, it was Gerard needing Frank, and the younger one saw it. He had seen Gerard in depression, or vulnerable, hopeless, distant and lonely, so what he saw now was nothing new. Still, it pained him whenever he saw anything but joy on Gerard's face. All he longed for now was to appease his friend, to kiss his faded lips and tell him that everything would be okay, even though it might not in the end. He wanted to hold him closer than he had held anyone else before. If only he could tell Gerard that he wasn't alone.

So he did.

Frank entwined his tiny fingers through Gerard's short, silver hair, using the grip to pull the two closer together, leaving no time for Gerard to react before the collision of their lips. It was only when his mouth began to move beneath Gerard's did the older man's eyes flutter shut and his own mouth worked against Frank's.

Gerard pulled away only for a moment, but giving himself enough time to stare Frank in the eyes with a lustful I'm-totally-going-to-fuck-your-brains-out kind if smile, then reattached their lips with an open mouth. By now, the kiss had passed innocent and was surfacing on the passionate phase, especially when Frank decided to crawl onto Gerard's lap and wrap both legs around his waist.

Neither of the two, if asked, could recall how long the kiss lasted or would not have been able to count the seconds, hell, maybe even minutes that passed if they tried. Not that they wanted to either. That would mainly distract them from enjoying each other. At one point, Frank considered adding in some tongue, but didn't want to push the limits with this being their first kiss in over two years. Even though his tongue had been down Gerard's throat countless times before, and the other way around, it didn't feel right this early. From the signs he was receiving from his partner, if he could be considered that, their relationship was starting fairly fresh, and if anything slow.

Okay not slow.

When they at last tired of making out they pulled away from each other ever so slightly, leaving between their lips two or three inches of space, still not quite wanted to separate too far. Frank's beautiful lips displayed an uncontrollable and equally beautiful grin. He placed a single, tiny finger on his smile, as if he could not quite believe that they had been touched by Gerard's own mouth. But whether he believed it or not, it did just happen, after all the years of not being able to hold Gerard's hand, put an arm around his waist, a head on his shoulder or even stare at his ass without getting return an uneasy stare instead of a loving smile. No, Frank never stopped staring at Gerard's ass, but it didn't matter now because he had kissed that motherfucker, and he was positive they both enjoyed.

He had kissed him.

Finally.


	4. Chapter 4

"EW GROSS! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU... OH GOD!"

Frank and Gerard had been so distracted by each other, they hadn't noticed the young man lying a few yards away, completely awake, sitting upright and a sickened expression on his face, that was until he spoke. Confused, their heads snapped to where the voice had come from, but it wasn't like it could have been anyone but Mikey, unless Bob and Ray had returned earlier than expected.

Gerard tried to explain themselves. "Uh... It's... We were... It's not what it looks like?"

Mikey continued to stare with the same expression of disbelief and distaste.

Frank gestured to their bodies. "I should probably..."

Gerard nodded. "Yeah..."

Frank climbed off of the body beneath him as Gerard's face suddenly reddened, embarrassed and half-pitying his brother, since Mikey had to witness that.

"How much did you um... see?" Frank questioned and bit down on his lip ring.

"Enough," Mikey replied with disgust. "I mean I know you guys might never have the chance to fuck ever again, but you could have like, gone into those bushes or something. What if I had woken up five minutes from now? Who the hell knows what you would have done? Do you even know how much fucking therapy that would take? No! No you don't!" He finished without giving them a chance to reply.

"Chill the fuck out, man," defended Frank. "I mean it's not like we were going all the way."

Gerard joined him. "Yeah, really. You're completely over-reacting."

Mikey shook his head. "No I'm not. And I'm sorry but there are really fucked up images in my head right now, thanks to you."

Gerard and Frank bit back smiles but said nothing as Mikey pressed his palms into his eyes. Frank, to avoid conversation and occupy himself, plucked blades of grass, one by one, from the earth and lay them parallel to each other, for no reason really, in a patch of dirt while Gerard suddenly became fascinated with a dead leaf.

"Admit it," Mikey said softly when Frank had organized an army of grass blades, "One of you would totally be getting it up the ass right now if I hadn't intervened."

Gerard pulverized the leaf into dead-leaf-dust in his fists. "You know what? Just drop it you little fucker. And no. We were not going to."

"Yeah you were."

"Actually," Frank corrected, "I was thinking something more along the lines of a blow job."

Gerard grimaced. "What the hell? Whose side are you on?"

Frank shrugged and grinned foolishly but with nothing more to say while Gerard continued to scowl.

The quietude returned again, still as cumbersome as before. Frank was combing through the earth for odd-shaped stones while Gerard drew with his fingertip in the dirt. Mikey refused to even look at the other two, but did use the silence as an instrument for thinking, wanting to consider what this meant as far as the relationship between Frank and his brother, but of course all the wrong thoughts about them was really the only thing his innocent little brain could process at first. What did this even mean for them? Were they back together again, or was it simply lust? It was understandable that there would be no real love involved, especially with the chance that this may be their last relationship, not implying that they married each other but rather, as dark as it may sound, died before they found anyone else. That was if they ever broke up. There was a chance, a good one, actually, that Gerard and Frank would end up staying with each other if they survived this. They had been deeply in love before, so it wasn't just lust.

If they were again in love and there was a real relationship between them, or at least one in the making, then there was no doubt that Mikey approved. He would most definitely be relieved to see his brother over-coming depression with his love for Frank. Kisses replaced cutting, affection for hatred, comfort instead of loneliness, even the drugs and Gerard's alcoholism were gone, and Mikey couldn't deny thinking that sex had to substitute for something. Yes, Mikey approved of their relationship, so long as Gerard himself was happy, and judging from what he had seen, as much as he didn't want to see it, the two were happy. The only question was, would Ray and Bob share the same opinion?

Ray and Bob...

Where the hell were they, and how could he have been so oblivious? He had been awake long enough that he should have noticed two fifths of the group missing. Did neither of the other two say anything at all on purpose?

"Hey you guys?"

They both glanced at him, eyebrows raised.

"Does anyone mind telling me where the hell Bob and Ray are?"

"Oh right," Gerard began, "They're just out-" But an elbow into his bicep stopped him mid-sentence. He flashed a frown at his attacker.

Frank dropped his voice to something just above a whisper. "Gerard, I think that... that I'd better tell him." He paused, waiting for him to show some flicker of understanding. "If you want, that is."

"Uh... Okay? I guess." Gerard continued to frown until a faint grin crossed his lips with and understanding of Frank's scheme.

Frank drew a breath then released it to steady himself, then took another before speaking. "Mikey... They... They're dead."

"WHAT?"

"Nah, they're scavenging for food."

"You son of a bitch."

"You're so gullible."

"This really isn't a time for jokes, Frank. And that wasn't funny, either."

"I thought it was pretty damn hilarious."

He turned to address the both of them. "But you guys just let them go off on their own like that? What the hell? Do you even know where they went or how far or when they'll be-"

Gerard silenced his fits of laughter long enough to get a word in. "Relax, dude. They're fine. They went-" His index finger extended in the direction they had left, to his right "-that way and they've only been gone-" He consulted his watch, to find that he didn't actually own a watch, "-for like five minutes or so." A likely estimate.

Mikey scowled at Gerard. Gerard scowled at Mikey.

Until the younger of the two said, "Okay fine. But don't pull that kinda shit again, Frank."

Frank, tired of standing, sat cross-legged in the dirt and lit the cigarette that hung from his lips. A tendril of smoke. "Not my fault you're so damn gullible."

"They could have easily died! What was I supposed to believe?"

"That I was just messing with you, stupid fuck."

Gerard threw him a okay-that's-far-enough-don't-insult-my-little-brot her-like-that glare.

Frank noticed and placed his back against a tree. "Whatever."

"So," began Mikey, when Frank had stubbed out his cigarette and fought boredom by sculpting a miniature snowman with what little ice crystals he could find, and when Gerard had grown tired and his head found a comfortable position atop Frank's shoulder, "How long do you think they'll be gone?"

In response to Gerard, Frank's arm found its way across the vocalist's back with its fingers through his hair. To Mikey he said, "That's a good question."

"Dammit, Ray, for the last time! Pinecones are not edible!"

Ray and Bob had been skulking, or at least trying to skulk, which isn't easy when you're not actually quiet, through the forest on high alert for the past fifteen minutes, gathering anything that looked remotely edible. Or more like Bob was, and Ray stumbled ten feet behind and collected poisonous berries, pinecones, and various dried leaves. He let Ray keep the berries, leaves and what not to feel at least useful, but pinecones? That was where he drew the line, and considered demanding Ray return to the other three and handle this situation himself, but kept in mind that if they happened to encounter a carnivorous beast, he might need someone he could outrun at his side. And, hell, Ray couldn't find his own dick if he had to. What made Bob think he would make his way back to a camp God-knows-how-many miles the opposite direction. Not to mention, the flowers, berries and- was that a dead beetle of some sort?- may be of some use to... certain members of the group. Damn vegetarians.

"Now get your ass up here! They're counting on us, man."

Ray resumed his place behind Bob, still as loud as ever, but this time without the pinecones.

"I hate to break it to you man, but pinecones? Really. They're not edible."

Ray eyed his feet. "Just trying to help."

"I know, but no more pinecones, okay?"

"Alright."

"Let's keep moving."

Ray nodded and they set out again.

Five minutes of scaring off any game in a five mile radius, including Bob flinching whenever Ray stepped on a stick, Ray losing his balanced and falling onto a bush which Bob sometimes hoped had thorns or was the residence of a poisonous snake, and Bob cursing at Ray when the above two scenarios happened got them nowhere. At last they both grew hopeless.

Bob threw himself down on the rotting body of a fallen tree. "This is pointless."

Ray sat beside him. "I agree. We should just go back."

"As much as I want to, we really can't. Gerard, Mikey, Frank... They need us.

"But we can't-"

"Dammit man! Did you see how ready Gerard was to just lie down and die? Do you want that to happen? Do you want any of them to die? They. Need. Us."

Ray consented with a slight nod. "Okay, alright. But we haven't even found anything."

"Well, I wonder why? Maybe if you weren't so obnoxiously loud we might have."

"Me? Obnoxiously loud? I'm not the one yelling!"

"Yes you are!"

"Well you were first!"

"So?" Bob stood. "Dammit, Ray, you should've stayed behind. You're just... in my way!"

Ray flinched at Bob's asperity with another step back. "Well- Well fine, you dick. I'll just go then. Not like I wanted to be stuck with your sorry ass anyway. Good fucking luck. I hope you, like, get attacked by a bear or something. I mean a really, really angry one. Also very large and intimidating And when it tears your heart out, I hope you're-" Turning to the feel of cold, callused fingers into the fleshy part of his biceps made him forget the latter, more insulting portion of his paragraph. He stopped, puzzled and retraces his ninety-degree turn to face Bob once again. "The fuck do you-"

"SHHHH," Bob hissed sharply.

"What is it? What do you-"

Bob planted a single massive palm over Ray's lips; an effective form of shutting him the fuck up. If that wasn't enough, he added, "I said shut your fucking face!" with much asperity. He didn't release until Ray realized that his meek struggling was of no use.

Ray stepped away from Bob, massaging his jaw where Bob had possibly bruised it, though in truth he was simply being a baby. "Okay, okay," he snapped quietly enough to please Bob. "You don't have to freakin' manhandle me. The hell is it? What's so damn important you have to dislocate my jaw?"

Bob silently, slowly, and too dramatically lifted an arm and extended his index finger toward the object of interest, and while it took a strenuous moment of squinting and straining his eyes, he did indeed see what was intended to be.

Not more than seven to ten feet away on the edge of a dense thicket lie a small and furry figure, measuring the length of adult's palm plus a half or less of that. At first glance, it appeared motionless, but upon closer inspection as the pair took another couple of steps forward it flinched and twitched uncontrollably.

Then casting his shadow directly over the creature, Bob kneeled to further examine it. "It's a rabbit."

Ray appeared at his side but stood. "Why doesn't it run away?"

"Might be injured." Bob, seeing into his observation, took into his hands the nearest twig, but stopped to look again. The rabbit, with commonly colored grey and white fur, was laying on it's left side with no visible external injuries. It was breathing heavily and rapidly, it's stomach vibrating in a way that reminded him of hummingbird wings, and looked close to full grown, but not quite there yet. It had a face that made hard-hearted Bob almost feel sorry for it, with marble-sized black and pleading eyes; the look of a prey animal that knows it's over. With the twig in hand, he lightly pressed it against the animal's right thigh. Immediately, it began to violently twitch spazzed about along the ground, kicking masses of dirt and mud into the air. Bob, startled, retracted his arm and waited until the both of them had calmed before trying the same again and getting less of a reaction.

Ray decided to now kneel down next to the other. "So now what?"

"Now..." Bob began, and reached behind him and under his jacket to expose for the first time an object that made Ray choke on his breath as he gasped, then fall backward against a bush, still thoroughly aghast at Bob's action. He pointed and stuttered, never quite finishing an entire word. The whole sight would have been comical, from someone's besides Ray's perspective, if it were not for the fact that Bob had just revealed from the back of his jeans a loaded Smith & Wesson .45 semi-automatic Cheif's Special handgun. "We kill it."

Then Ray laughed.

Bob glared. He didn't find a weapon capable of killing most organisms from great distances with a single pull of a trigger so amusing. "What? What the hell are you laughing at?"

"Your gun! It's so freakin' tiny man! Like a little baby gun!"

Bob allowed another moment of laughter for Ray. "Seriously? I mean no 'Holy shit you have a gun?' or 'Where did you get that?' or anything like that?"

Ray was laughing too hard to respond.

"Okay, really. It's not THAT funny."

Between fits of laughter, Ray fit in a, "Yes it is."

"Screw you. Anyway, let's deal with this rabbit thing and get back to, well, base camp."

"Base camp?" Ray was smirking, and Bob was not yet sure whether it was from 'base camp' or 'tiny gun."

"Yeah, it sounds cool. Don't judge, okay?"

"Yeah whatever."

Bob shook his head, then without further notice cocked back the hammer of his handgun and aimed it at the rabbit's skull.

Ray's eyes became saucers. "WAIT! ARE YOU A FUCKING IDIOT?"

Considering Ray's hand was now between the barrel and the rodent, Bob didn't fire, otherwise they would have the bloody mess of a decapitated rabbit at their knees, Ray with one less limb, and three other scared shitless men a mile away.

Bob re-aimed his gun, preferably in a position where Ray wouldn't have his fingers scattered across the forest floor had it been fired "I could be asking you the same thing. You're lucky your hand's still intact, you half-wit."

"You're going to shoot it?"

"No, I'm going to invite it to my fucking house for tea. Yes I'm going to shoot it!"

"Isn't that overkill?"

"It's humane."

"Okay, go ahead. And we'll just notify every predator in the whole damn forest who wants to rip our guts out our whereabouts. Then have fun hiding it from Gerard, Frank and Mikey. Unless they all went deaf recently, that won't happen. You think Frank's going to be happy about that? Freakin' vegetarians man. He's gonna flip. Gerard's gonna want to shoot it; who knows how Mikey's gonna react, and just so you know-"

"Okay, okay! I get it! I won't shoot the damn rabbit!" He returned the hammer, then the pistol. "Well, how do we bring it back to... base camp?"

"You're saying we're going to eat it?"

"Really, Ray, you gotta stop this redundant questions thing."

"But- But that's-"

"You think we have much of a choice? It's kill or die." He stripped off his jacket and wrapped the rabbit in it, to avoid contracting rabies if it tried to bite. From the way it kicked beneath the fabric, he concluded there would most definitely be biting had he carried it in his bare hands. Without word or notice, he began to walk back.

Ray submitted followed. "So... where did you get the gun anyway?"

"Does it matter?" Bob was not in the mood for conversation. Finding the way back was frustrating enough already; he didn't need the constant drone of Ray's voice in the background.

"I guess not." He was silent for a moment. "You've been carrying that around this whole time without telling any of us?"

"Ray, look, it's not a big deal okay? Can we end it?"

"Yeah, sure... I just feel like, and don't take this offensively, but, like I can trust you less."

"You know, that doesn't work with all cases."

"What doesn't?"

"Saying 'no offense' then flat out insulting somebody."

"Sorry... Just don't tell anyone, okay? I mean about the gun."

"I'm not."

"Is there anything else you've been hiding?"

"You said we could end it."

The rest was silent.


End file.
